


Sugar

by fromneptune



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light-Hearted, Lots of Food, M/M, Slow Build, sawamura daichi is not a morning person, suga and yaku are roommates, they're all dorks i swear, yaku gives advice, yaku has ocd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromneptune/pseuds/fromneptune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Suga works at a coffee shop and Daichi, a writer, gets the same order every morning so he learns his name and order by heart.<br/>"I asked my roommate how they know when they like someone, and he said 'you just know.' I thought he was an idiot for saying that, but now I completely understand what he meant. It's so clear to me now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first daisuga fic, it's extremely cheesy. I don't even like cheese.  
> Anyhow, enjoy!

One thing Sugawara Koushi knew for sure was that he didn't want to stay working at the coffee shop for the rest of his life. He would tell you that he loved his job because he loves coffee, and while he did love coffee, he didn't love his job. He didn't hate it either, but he would rather not make coffee for strangers on a daily basis for the rest of his life. He was a hardworking (?), single man in his early twenties who went to a pretty well-off college. As a child he was intelligent and mature for his age, so much so that his mother's friends mistakenly assumed he was a girl who liked boys' clothes. For the record, his smile was the cutest thing. His relationship with his mother was more solidified than with his father who wasn't home often enough. Although he had an adult and effeminate disposition, he was definitely not a girl. He would get angry with his classmates in elementary school when they would tease him for this, saying, "I don't understand how Koushi came out a boy. Why? Why?" Then he would fight them. "I'm a boy!" he would shout desperately.

Aside from this, Suga could say he had an eventful life. He became the vice-captain of his high school's volleyball team. His parents divorced when he was in his first year; they both still went to his games and graduation, and paid for college, but nothing felt the same. He soon found a hobby in writing poetry and short fiction. In college, he found coffee as a way to keep himself awake for his classes and lectures and homework.

After graduation, he still wasn't quite sure where to go with his life, so he got a job at the coffee shop near his apartment. He'd been working there for two years when he first laid eyes on _him._ He wasn't too good with women and he's only had three relationships with them, so catching himself staring at a certain male customer wasn't too surprising. He wasn't aware of how long he'd been staring, but he took note of every detail he could see. It was strange. He's seen cute girl and guy customers before, but this guy almost existed in a different dimension. He had short dark hair and round chestnut eyes. His eyes and thick eyebrows gave off a confident and bold air. He had quite a large build as well as good fashion sense. His grey shirt and blazer outlined the shape of his body. Then there were his hands. _Oh, his hands._

"Um. Hello?"

Suga snapped out of his internal monologue and looked up at the frowning customer. "I'm sorry. What would you like?"

"A cinnamon latte."

"Which size?"

"Medium."

"That'll be 3.75."

As the man paid, Suga asked him his name. He glanced at him in suspicion. "For the cup," Suga elaborated, "so that you know it's yours."

"Oh. It's Daichi."  _Daichi_ _._ _That fits him,_ Suga thought.

The next minute his order was ready and he walked out slowly. Suga definitely liked the way his shoulder blades moved along with his arms and legs as he walked.

Not long after the encounter, he was paid a visit by Kiyoko, an old friend. She had long dark hair, misty blue eyes, and a mole below her lips. She wore rounded square glasses. "Hey, Koushi." She sighed and exhaled into her palms. "It's really cold, isn't it?"

"I guess. So, what's your order? Is it for your boss again?"

"Nope. Today it's just me."

He took her order and they talked for a bit behind the counter. She talked about her new boyfriend's habit of brushing his chest hairs. She asked him if he was in a relationship and he said, "If only."

"No way. What about that girl who came here every day just to see you?"

"She wasn't it."

"It?"

"It."

Kiyoko hung her head and sighed heavily. "Well, I'm rooting for you. Always."

 

That night Suga asked his roommate, Yaku, about relationships. Specifically he asked about how you know when you like someone. His peach-haired friend then answered with the most clichéd thing ever (though it might have made perfect sense). "Uh, well, I think you just  _know_ _._ " In their three years of living together, not once has Yaku said something so  _not him._ He had many characteristics in common with Suga, though he had a sarcastic tongue and a form of obsessive compulsive disorder in which he needed everything to be clean and organized all the time. If something was out of place because of Suga, he would go off on a tirade about it for quite a while until he grew tired or hungry. Most times it was the latter. He was small and child-like at times, but he had a firm and forthright temperament. He, like Suga, was very competitive. Whenever they played  _J-Stars Victory VS_ _,_ assuming the roles of their favorite shounen manga characters, Yaku would always attempt to win, and by any means possible. Of course, that's usually the goal in role-playing fighting games like this, but there had to be a limit to how hard you scream and play. He was, to put it simply, a genius at gaming.

However whenever they discussed their jobs or rent or anything serious, he would speak in a dismal tone. He gave good advice. If he weren't so obsessively concerned with the minor things all the time and if Daichi hadn't appeared out of nowhere, Suga could have eventually fallen for him.

"Which one of us is making dinner tonight?" Yaku asked.

Suga dreaded the thought. "Let's do rock-paper-scissors. Loser makes dinner."

"Okay. I'm going to crush you."

He did indeed crush his silver-haired roommate. Suga scoffed at his defeat bitterly. He wasn't in the mood to cook. But he was hungry. "What do you want?"

"Noodles," he replied.

"Noodles it is."

 

The next morning Suga, who was sleepier than usual, couldn't even pay attention to his customers that well. The manager was about to kick him out when he perked up upon seeing Daichi walk in with a pale yellow shirt that illuminated the colors on the walls. The one color brought the others to life, as well as Suga himself. "Hello," he welcomed with a loud enough tone to show he was awake.

Daichi looked down at him (he was taller) and, at least from his perspective, seemed to recognize him from yesterday. "Oh," he spoke. He  _did_ recognize him.

"Hi," Suga blurted out. He wasn't planning to say anything not what-is-your-order related, but nothing that's happened so far was planned.

"Hi."

"Do you want the same as yesterday? Or..."

"The same as yesterday."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

"Well, it's my job."

"That it is."

Suga could not believe what was happening. Was Daichi actually an awkward guy? Moreover, were they actually having a conversation? On the second day? Truthfully, it wasn't so much as a conversation as it was a slow interchange of short words.

This time, before Daichi left, he turned and said to him, "I didn't get your name."

"It's Koushi. Sugawara Koushi."

"Oh, we have similar surnames then. I'm Sawamura."

He grinned. "I guess so."  _Sawamura Daichi._

That was the end of their talk, but they'd already gotten pretty far. He thought about what to say for the next time they met; nothing useful came to mind.

***

On Saturdays he worked the evening shift only (he was off on Sundays). People were flooding in like the waves of a nighttime ocean. The last of the rush was none other than Sawamura Daichi. He didn't think it was chance because his entire being seemed too good to be true. He got his answer when Ennoshita, one of his coworkers whispered in his ear from behind, "He came by yesterday evening after you'd left and asked the manager for your work schedule. You have a friend now, huh?" He already did have a friend (Kiyoko), but he had better things to do than to correct him.

"Yeah." His response was devoid of thought since he was too surprised and excited to say something meaningful.

"I'll take over for you. Go and talk to him."

"Okay...Thanks, Ennoshita."

"No problem." As he went over to Daichi, he looked back at his coworker and saw that he was talking to a pretty redheaded girl.  _I see now,_ he thought.

"Hey," he said to Daichi, who was wearing a leather jacket. The jacket on him appealed to Suga, but at the same time he felt lesser than him for just a moment because he was just Suga in a green apron and he was the overly-handsome customer.

"Hi. Did you hear about what I did?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't mean to seem creepy. Sorry. I just...wanted to talk."

"It's okay."  _God, say something, you idiot!_ "Oh, since you know where I work, why don't you tell me what you do for a living?"

Daichi answered, "I'm a writer."

Suga's eyes sparked under the already bright lights in the store that contrasted directly with the darkness outside. It was as if the shop was in a totally different world and drew people together. Like him and Kiyoko, then Daichi, and Ennoshita with the redhead. Who knew what other people were becoming closer under the roof of a too-bright coffee shop in the middle of a rural prefecture?

"What kind of things to you write?" Suga was especially interested in this because he wrote some things himself. But since he'd taken a class on editing, he was always overly critical with his own work.

"Anything, really. Anything but romance."

"Romance? Why?"

"Because romance in books is repetitive fiction. It hardly actually happens the way people write it, with either perfect characters, too broken characters, or the two combined in a disgusting way. Real romance depends on the individual. It's in the moment and quick and free."

Suga, speechless, stared at Daichi who was suddenly speaking so passionately to a guy he kind of just met. He noticed this and faced the ceiling, the light hurting his eyes. "Ah, dammit. I said too much."

"No, it's fine. But about that, wouldn't that be why writers write romance the way they do? _Because_ it's fiction?"

"That's not how love is, though. They put the wrong ideas into people's heads."

"Then," Suga began, "have you ever been in love?"

Everything between them stopped as they gazed at each other. It was more like their actions were talking instead of their tongues, and their thoughts were a few steps behind. At the very least, this was how Suga felt. Now, Daichi was far from shy; he was actually easy to irritate (though him being truly angry was rare, and when it did happen, he was a force of nature). However at this moment he couldn't even fathom his language or the colors on the walls. He was dangerously close to telling Suga that he had a thing for men. Sure, he could be interested in him, but his other attempts had been one-sided. He'd most definitely been in love before. It just didn't end well. So he admitted, "I have."

"Well I haven't. So take this from someone who knows nothing about love. People like to chase after what they can't have. The people you're talking about who like romance stories like them because it's far from their reach. That's what I think."

"I guess I like what you think, Sugawara Koushi." Daichi, now grinning, took out a piece of napkin paper and a pen. Even if he couldn't take the next step, he would like to be friends with him. He wrote down his cell number and his address and handed it to him. "Maybe sometime next week you can call me. Or come over. Either is fine. Or both. Both is better."

"That sounds good."

"Good."

Although his face had been burning for the last ten minutes, Suga couldn't stop smiling.

During that week, they talked more about themselves and Suga learned that Daichi often fell asleep while writing, and he couldn't cook well. He was always lethargic in the morning so he needed something hot to regenerate (incidentally he wasn't particularly attached to coffee). He'd wandered around and landed in Suga's coffee shop that day. The reason why he dressed well was because "I may be disaster inside, but I can't be a disaster in my appearance." Suga assumed he talked like that since he was a writer. They became used to each other's presences and personalities, and on Saturday night, an hour before closing time, he came by and showed him his latest manuscript.

Their late night calls were about his writing as well. Somewhere along the line, Suga expressed his love for dogs and spicy foods, while Daichi for cats and ramen. He also told Suga that his birthday was on December 31. Suga's was June 13. They also talked about how they both played volleyball in high school.

"Sometimes I want to continue it," Suga commented.

"Yeah," Daichi agreed, "Same here."

***

On Sunday, he faced Daichi's apartment complex and walked up the stairs in search of his surname. _Sawamura, Sawamura, here it is. Sawamura...Daichi. It's this one._ He rang the doorbell.

"Oh, Suga. You came," said a clearly haggard yet delighted Daichi.

"Wha--?!" Suga had no words at the moment for his appearance. He had on a velvet red robe that wasn't tied too well, panda slippers, and rather evident leg hair. His hair was even more unruly than usual and he was wearing glasses. His white shirt and boxers were very visible to Suga, making him uneasy. These things led him to one conclusion: "Were you up all night writing? You were, weren't you?" He said this and as he walked inside he smelled a strong alcoholic odor. "And you stink of beer."

"Sorry. I took the advice you told me yesterday about the ending. I pulled an all-nighter so I wouldn't forget what you said. Ideas are best when they're first written and fleshed out. If you leave an idea untouched for too long, it becomes stale and impotent."

"Boy, you sure can preach," he retorted. He sat down on the orange sofa in the middle of the room, facing the television.

Daichi followed. "This is my favorite place to sit." It was this time when Suga took into account how much the house was like him. There wasn't much color to it and the lighting was somewhat dimmed. The kitchen was sizable and there were three doors further down. One of them was the bathroom, the other his bedroom, and the last one a mystery. The writer sitting next to him was a bit dark as well as a mystery. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked.

"I'm fine. But you probably haven't eaten yet, so I think I'm going to make something for you," Suga answered, getting up and heading to the kitchen. He nearly fainted upon seeing his refrigerator. "What the hell is this!" he exclaimed. Then again, he wasn't surprised that Daichi had a semi-empty fridge. In it there were five heads of cabbage, a bottle of soy sauce, a plum, and three slices of bread. In his cabinets he had so many cans of beans Suga considered he might as well be planning for the apocalypse. There was also a package of plain ramen noodles. "I'm going to start calling you 'cabbage head' from now on. Seriously," he said to him.

"Call me Daichi," he said, "You haven't called me by name yet."

"Really? Okay, then, Daichi." He wasn't going to say it, but he'd been purposefully not using his name because he felt that if he said it, he would burst into flames. It wasn't that big of a deal, but if he possibly liked the guy...

"I like that."

"That's good." He began cooking. With some cabbage he made soup, some he sautéed with beans. He made the ramen and put soy sauce in it. When he finished, he went over to Daichi, who had fallen asleep. "No wonder he was so quiet." He found himself enjoying his sleeping face. His mind went back to what he looked like when he first answered the door, and he felt strange. Daichi did look tired and worn, but his lack of clothing was slowly making Suga aware of his libido.

 _I can't believe this. Am I actually falling for this guy? Or has it happened already?_ He reached out and stroked his short hair. He felt his jawline and the stubble on his chin. He wondered what it meant to "love." He got up, plated the food and ate his portion. He waited for Daichi to wake up, but as it wasn't happening, he decided to cover the food. He began to walk around the house. He peered inside one room, which turned out to be the bathroom. Another room was his room, with the walls painted cerulean blue and the large queen-sized bed. It wasn't made, of course. There wasn't much else in the room except for a closet with clothes, a drawer and a dirty volleyball. Within the closet were shirts and a seemingly old volleyball jersey.  _He was number one, huh?_

In the last unopened room, drenched in mystery, were three bookshelves, stuffed with books, and a desk with a swivel chair. On the desk was empty coffee cup from the shop, a laptop, and his latest manuscript, _The Goddess._ He took one of the books from the shelves with great difficulty. The book was one he wrote, called  _Firefighter._ He started reading and read until it hit eight. He'd been mesmerized by his writing.

He left with a note, saying,  _See you tomorrow._

 

Monday morning, Daichi came in with a worried expression. He quickly went up to Suga. "Sorry about yesterday. You don't hate me, do you?"

Suga laughed, trying to mask his unease. "No. How could I hate you for sleeping?"

He sighed in relief. "Good. Because I want us to go out for lunch on Saturday."

"Okay. Sure."

He leaned in closer, eyeing Suga. "Are you  _sure_ you're okay? Your food yesterday was delicious."

"I'm fine, I'm fine! And thanks."

"Alright. If you say so. I won't be back here until Thursday because I have a signing and a conference."

"That's fine. See you later."

"See you later."

The worst thing about all this was the fact that Suga had no idea how to express his feelings. More so to a fellow male. Even if he had feelings for him, it wasn't guaranteed that it was the other way around. They had a sweeter air than that of just guy friends, but his feelings only made him very confused and lost. He anticipated and dreaded the upcoming Saturday.

When Thursday arrived he saw that Daichi was accompanied by another man. He was taller than him, with brown eyes and long brown hair tied back in a bun. If he didn't know better, Suga would have assumed that he was a gangster; he had a slightly intimidating air around him. "Hey, Suga," Daichi greeted.

"Hey. Who's your friend there?"

"Azumane," the man said. "We went to high school together."

"I see. Where are you two headed?"

"To a movie. Wanna come with? I can sneak you out," Daichi said.

"No. I don't want to have to listen to the manager's complaining afterwards."

He did not accept this. He took Suga by the arm and pulled him swiftly out of the shop. "What are you doing?" he shouted. "The manager--"

" _I,_ I want to spend time with you. Now," he argued.

"That's selfish..."

"That's _Daichi,_ " Asahi remarked.

They arrived at the theater and paid for their tickets. As Daichi went to get concessions, Suga and Asahi went ahead to get their seats. They made small talk on the way. "So, how's being that guy's friend?" Asahi asked.

"He's all over the place. Are all writers like that?"

"It's just him, I think."

"You know, Azumane, this is sudden because we just met, so don't freak out. I think I like him."

Asahi stopped with widened eyes. "You  _like_ him? _That_ way? For real?"

"Yeah. Are you disgusted now?"

"No, I think you're bold for telling that to guy you literally just met. But why tell me that? Shouldn't you tell _him_?"

"Why would I do that? I'd jeopardize what we have now."

"But he's..." Asahi stopped himself from doing something that would make Daichi angry.

"He's?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"So, I have a question. Do you know who he's been in love with?"

"In high school, there was a girl he dated. I don't remember her name, but she cheated on him. Caught her kissing another guy right in front of his house. Then there was another girl who ended up moving to England. He never told her how he felt. After her there was a guy—"

Suga checked to see if he'd heard correctly. "Did you say 'a guy'? Is he gay?"

Asahi quickly added, "Bi. But don't tell him I told you. He'll kill me."

He was feeling a lot better about everything now. But something was still holding him back. "That makes sense. I had the feeling he was flirting with me, but I wasn't sure," he said.

"Wait, it's mutual?"

Suga shrugged. "Why is that surprising?"

"Because the last guy he liked didn't like him back. I mean, the odds weren't that great, and he knew this, but he was still pretty broken about it. I didn't think he would try again."

"I don't think he tried," Suga said, "I think it just happened like this."

Asahi sighed. "If you really like him though, don't break him again. Please."

***

Suga wasn't fond of restaurants. Or food places, really. He liked making food at home. The only exception to this would be the barbecue place he and Daichi had just entered. There were a billion different aromas, not too many people, and the walls looked both furnished and run-down. It had a domestic, full-of-life design and a smell that made him feel home. He was immediately in love with it. As they walked to seats by the window, he thanked Daichi for bringing him here and stated that he wanted tons of beef. Daichi replied with laughter and a, "Me, too." After they got situated it didn't take long for them to order, and soon enough they were drinking _sake_ and stuffing their faces with beef and pork. During the interval of time that they waited for the meat to cook, they talked.

"What was your childhood like? I don't think I asked you before." Daichi asked him.

"Eventful. When I was five, people thought I was a girl."

"What? You're a boy, aren't you? You might be a little pretty, and gentle, but you _are_ a guy."

"Yeah. Other than that, my parents got divorced. It's not something I like to talk about." Suddenly, he realized why he was so uncomfortable about having feelings for Daichi. He realized what was stopping him from telling him that he liked him and from kissing him right then and there. He had been afraid of ending up like his parents. Being around a divorced couple can warp your mentality about love overall. And then Asahi had told him about Daichi's past. Love was so nerve-wracking and unreliable. But, he concluded that it was worth it. Every fight, every kiss, every laugh, every minute. It was all worth it if he could spend his life with Daichi, even as ridiculous and unstable as he was, because he was also bright and consuming and endearing. Suga liked him so much he could call it love.

"I get it. For me, all I did was play volleyball. Then somehow, I started writing."

"So have I, actually. I write."

Daichi nodded, as if he expected that. "That’s why you're so good at helping me."

"Flattery has its boundaries, Daichi. I'm not that good."

"Sure you are. Here's a napkin and a pen. Write something from the top of your head."

"Okay..." The thing is, Suga only had him on his mind at the moment. He couldn't write anything decent, not while he was distracted. But he got an idea, to kill two birds with one stone.  _It's now or never,_ he thought as he started writing. His fingers moved as fast as his heart was beating. He finished and raised it up to Daichi, covering his own face. It read, in big, bold writing:

_I like you. A lot._

_Do you want to go out with me?_

Immediately Daichi got up and took Suga outside; the meat was still sizzling on the grill. "Wait," he said, "since when? I'm a guy, you know?"

"It's pretty clear to me that you're a guy. I don't know when it started or why. It just _did_."

"Did you know I'm bisexual?"

Keeping hold to Asahi's request, he said, "Yeah. I figured you were."

"Oh my God. I really can't believe this."

Suga was shaking from nervousness, but he was smiling. "Well, believe it. I asked my roommate how they know when they like someone, and he said, 'you just know.' I thought he was an idiot for saying that, but now I completely understand what he meant. It's so clear to me now. I like you, Daichi."

"I recognized you on the second day because of your silver hair. I'm glad I did. You made me want to love again."

"You know, it's a pretty amazing feat to be the reason why I want to go to work every day."

"About that," Daichi said, "I wanted to know if you would be interested in becoming my editor."

"Seriously?! Sawamura Daichi, you're an amazing person." Suga wrapped his arms around Daichi's neck and planted his lips on his. "Thank you." Pleasantly surprised, he pulled Suga closer and embraced him for a deeper, fuller kiss. They were in a moment that felt like an infinity.


End file.
